I haven't read most of Sylvia Plath's poetry, but of what I have read, Morning Song remains my favorite poem.  I don't know why I love this poem;  I'm not literate enough to figure it out.  But, as this blog has been christened by filching the first line, I thought I'd give you a pic of Hunter who is so kind enough to give a visual recitation of the last line of the penultimate stanza:  "Your mouth open clean as a cat's."

And speaking of penultimate,  I learned at age 37 what that word meant and I have J.K. Rowling to thank.   It was bandied about frequently in reviews for her Half-Blood Prince  two years ago.  I think she'd be happy she got a middle aged woman to learn a new word.  Thought, it wasn't much of a stretch.  I love words.  I just don't know how to string them together very well.